The Lost Princess
by searching-for-nemo
Summary: Lieutenant Duckling AU: Fifteen years after a tragic incident left him orphaned and alone, Prince Killian Jones is sent on a journey to find the lost princess Emma, a girl who is no more than a distant memory - and the only person who might be able to help him face the demons of his past. **ON HIATUS**
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

The young boy was out picking apples when his life was changed forever.

He was the prince of a land far away, the heir to a vast empire. Someday, he would be king. He would rule over all of the people in his land, and he would lead his troops into battle. He would be a hero.

He should be out fighting ogres and saving the damsels in distress his father would tell him stories of, not stuck in this dumb castle. There was nothing to do, and his mother wouldn't even let him _spar_ with the knights.

"You are six years old, and it's dangerous. No more arguing. Now, go off and play with the other children here; your father and I are busy," his mother had told him when he had asked her the day before. But they were so _little_. Emma was a toddling two year old brat, and he was certain the knights would be better company than she could ever be.

There were a few young servant children, but they were hardly suitable company for royalty.

He had gotten so desperate for a cure to his boredom that he had even tried to enter the council meeting his father and King Charming were at, but that was even worse than playing with the babies. They weren't telling stories of pirates and mermaids, or even sharing the latest news from the ogre war. All they could talk about were numbers, and crops, and the _weather_, for goodness sake.

One could only be expected to listen to so much talk of the weather before one got bored.

And when one got bored, he must certainly wander off into the deserted apple orchard to play. At least, that's what the young prince told himself as he swung from the trees, knocking apples off the branches on all sides.

Suddenly, he heard an unearthly cry go up from somewhere far away. A haze of green smoke was surrounding the castle.

Finally, something exciting was going on. The boy let out a whoop, and ran to find the adventure that awaited him.

When the castle was finally in sight, he fell silent, halted in his tracks. The guards…they were gone. But why? Where could they have gone? He raced back into the castle on his tiny legs, feeling a hint of fear for the first time in his short life. He ran into the castle, and came face to face with…no one. He ran, searching the rooms and the hallways for a sign of life, and found none.

He ran into the hidden room where he had left the men, and found nothing. There were no footprints, no swords left behind, and no bodies anywhere. An entire high council of men – including his father – was gone.

The prince was truly afraid now.

The boy ran up and down the halls, yelling for his mother, his father, a knight, _anybody._ He heard a high pitched whine echo his screams, and he ran through the halls searching for its source.

It was coming from the nursery, where he had left Emma happily burbling with her nurse just a few hours before. As he raced down the hallway, he noted that these halls were littered with toppled suits of armor. If Emma's cry hadn't been enough to tip him off, it would have been clear that someone had been here.

A stream of bright light was coming out from underneath the door. He flung the door open, and instantly regretted it.

A woman stood over Emma's crib, surrounded by a red haze of magic. The prince had briefly learned about this in his lessons with his father – red magic was evil, something to be avoided at any cost. Its power was limitless, but the price one paid to use it was never worth the benefits it gave. The woman's face was the only thing visible in the room; the light was too bright to make out anything else. He tried to quietly shut the door, but it was too late.

He had been spotted.

"Why, don't be shy, dear," the woman cackled. "I wouldn't let you leave anyway. Step one foot outside of that door and you'll suffer the same fate as your parents."

"My…my parents?" he asked. "What...what happened…to my parents?"

"You poor dear," she said. She dimmed the brightness of the magic and allowed him to take a better look at the scene around him.

His parents lay on the floor, surrounded by a growing pool of blood. Bright red stripes lined the entirety of their bodies, and the boy couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Mama…?" he pleaded quietly, unwilling to face the truth that lay on the cold floor ahead of him. "Papa…?" He lunged forward. It couldn't be them; they had to be imposters, wax figurines, _something_. His parents were alive, they had to be.

"Oh, no, dear, I'm afraid I can't let you do that," the woman snapped. With a flash of her fingers she sent the boy flying back several feet, sending him straight into a wall. "You see, I still have to decide what to do with you. Your parents defied me by trying to protect this infant, but you..."

"Please, please don't kill me," the little boy pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "I don't care about Emma, I just want to live, and I want my parents back, and I want things to be normal again."

Contemplating his answer, the woman rubbed her chin. "Hmm. Perhaps you could be of use. Not right now, obviously, but perhaps later…I'll tell you what, my dear boy. I will let you live. Your parents are dead. No force in this world can bring them back; I know that better than anyone. But just this once, I will allow you to escape me with your life intact. However…we can't have you telling the whole castle what you know."

"I promise that I'm really good at keeping secrets! I can do it, I know I can. You can go and take Emma with you and I won't tell anybody, ever!"

"Not good enough, my dear. I need a guarantee that my secrets will never be spilled. I hereby curse you: henceforth, no one will believe the words that come out of your mouth in regards to your past, to the events of today, or to myself. They will be seen as lies, and you will be seen as nothing more than a pathetic liar. No one will place any credit on the words that spill from your mouth, and you will never be able to explain what has happened to you. But you will remember everything, my dear. You will remember everything, but you will be able to share nothing with the ones around you."

The woman grabbed the broom that was propped up in the corner of Emma's nursery. To the young prince's amazement, the broom began to float in the air. The witch snatched the child, balanced herself on the broom, and turned back to meet the boy's terrified eyes one last time.

"I will be back for you, Killian. I will be back, and you _will _help me."

**Please review, let me know what you think of this so far :)**


	2. Memories

**A/N: After seeing a post about the similarities between Hook and Emma and Flynn and Rapunzel, I really liked the idea of putting the OUAT characters into a Rapunzel scenario. Hence, this fic is going to be ****loosely**** based on Tangled (yes, that's also where the title came from). I'm still not a hundred percent sure exactly where I'm going with this, so if you have any comments about things that need fixing or ideas for the future, I am totally open to them.  
**

**Disclaimer - I still do not own any aspect of this beyond the writing.**

15 YEARS LATER

_Queen Snow raced into the room, followed by King Charming and surrounded by a legion of knights. She let out a sharp cry as she noticed the bodies of their two visitors lying prone on the floor. They had been lifeless for hours, but the young boy still kneeled beside them, sobbing. They had been all he had had, and they had been ripped away from him. _

_Charming ran forward to the child. He grabbed him by the arms, shaking him violently. "Where is Emma? Tell me, now!" he bellowed. _

_"I don't know!" Killian tried to keep his promise to the witch not to tell. His father had taught him that promises were sacred and should only be made when one had the utmost intent to keep them. _

_The king turned away. "The boy lies," he said. "Search the castle. Send out a battalion to search the surrounding forests, whoever took Emma can't have gotten far. Snow, just…find out whatever you can from him, all right? I'll be back soon, but I need you to figure out what this boy knows if we ever want to find Emma." He kissed his wife's cheek and ran out the door._

_The queen approached the boy silently, tears streaming down her face. "Who are you?" she asked him gently._

_"I'm Prince Killian, remember?" he responded, annoyed. "I've been a visitor here for months. And now my parents are dead because of you, because your knights weren't there to protect them," he finished, coming dangerously close to tears again._

_"Who are your parents, honey?" _

_"They're right here. They're dead. And it's all your fault."_

_"Sweetheart…this is the king and queen. They…they might be dead, but they aren't your parents. They never had any children; that's why they came here. Who were your parents, really? It's okay. I won't let anybody hurt you."_

_"No, these are my parents! They are!" He was insistent, but she clearly didn't believe him. _

_"Calm down, Killian. It's going to be okay." She drew the child away from the corpses and into her arms, hugging him tightly. "Nobody will be able to hurt you or your family again. You can stay here, as a servant in the palace, and someday you can be a brave knight. You can protect the townspeople so that no other children have to go through what you went through. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"_

_He almost didn't notice that the queen had picked him up and was carrying him away from the gory scene that lay in the nursery. For the second time that night, he had lost his parents._

_"I'll bring you to Carlotta – she's in charge of all of our servants - and you'll find a new family, a better one. But I need your help. I need to find my little girl, my precious Emma. She was taken from me, and I have to find her. I'm helping you find a family; can you help me find mine?" _

_"I don't know where the woman took her! She used magic, that's all I know! I swear it! I tried to stop her, but she threatened to kill me!" _

_"Oh, honey. It's all going to be all right, just give me a second." He could sense that his story was falling on deaf ears; the queen obviously didn't believe him. But it was the truth! The witch had never even told him her name, she had just said that…that…anyone he told the story to wouldn't believe him. He realized now that the curse was real; his tale would never be believed, and the criminal would never be prosecuted. She had gotten away with killing his parents, and there was nothing he could do about it. _

_She had told him that she would return. _

_Then, and only then, could he avenge his parents' deaths._

Killian opened his eyes with a start, almost falling into the pile of horse manure at his feet.

The vision had been coming more and more frequently over the last few months. It had plagued his dreams at night, but this had been the first time it had come during the day.

It made him feel like that scared little boy again, uncertain about what the future held for him.

He remembered being dropped off in the care of the matronly head of the household that day. She had told him that he had a family in them, and that he ought to treat her as a mother. But she wasn't his _mother_.

He desperately missed his parents. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of them, and now that the memory of their deaths was playing on repeat in through dreams and visions, they never left his mind.

The cleaning wasn't going to do itself. He sighed and picked up the shovel, continuing to fill the buckets with dung. His childhood dreams of becoming a knight had never come true, and he had accepted long ago that they never would. He was the stable hand who helped with the gardening, and he would never be anything else. The castle staff had deemed him "just the man" for this job a few years ago. They had said he had "the perfect skill set for the task" and that he possessed "all the talents required." He had been so excited, thinking that they were finally going to allow him to become a knight.

Then he had been placed in the stables, handed a shovel, and told that he would be shoveling manure and planting flowers until the end of time.

It wasn't a horrible life, really, it wasn't. It was just that he had been destined for so much more. An imposter sat on _his _throne, oppressing _his_ people. They were starving, dying, and there was nothing Killian could do about it. He had been raised for greatness, but thrust into this lowly – and isolated - world by a stroke of bad luck.

Growing up, Carlotta had never hesitated to tell him how much he meant to her. Unable to have children, she treated the servants' children as her own. She would stroke his hair when he cried at night, and she would wake him up from his nightmares. She snuck him small candies from the kitchen, and tucked him into bed at night.

Then, as he grew older, he realized what lay beneath her kind façade.

Carlotta may have had a good heart, but it was reserved for the young children. Once they had grown old enough, they were thrown out of her good graces.

_It was the evening of his ninth birthday. He was so excited to show her the bug he had found. It was shaped like a cockroach, but it was bright red and covered with a yellowish fuzz. She had always appreciated his findings before; he hadn't expected this to be any different. Maybe she would even let a bit of cake. It was his birthday, after all, and she never forgot._

_But when he arrived at the kitchens, she couldn't seem to stop pointing out all of the things he had done wrong. He hadn't finished his chores, or tidied up the mantle, or collected the firewood, or…the list seemed to go on and on. _

_"But I did do all of those things, Carlotta, and you know I did. You told me I could go outside because it was my birthday. Look at this bug that I found," he said plaintively._

_"You are a good-for-nothing, worthless little brat!" she shrieked at him. "Go to your room. You will spend the rest of the evening there, without supper, and you will think about what you have done." _

_He turned away, confused as to why she was so angry. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. He turned away sadly to climb back to his room, but she wasn't finished._

_"You are a servant. You will never be worthy of anything, of any kind of kindness or affection. Your only duty to this kingdom is to serve its rulers, a task you have been blessed to be given, but one you have failed to complete. You are never to address me as 'Carlotta' again; rather, 'madam' will do." _

Killian smiled sadly to himself. Eleven years had gone by, yet he had never forgotten the lesson imposed upon him that day. He couldn't afford to trust anyone. He couldn't allow himself to grow close to them.

Because regardless of how much he cared for them (and regardless of how much he thought they cared for him), they always left.

His parents had left. Snow White and Prince Charming had left. They had forgotten about him completely once they realized that he would be of no use to them in finding their missing baby. And finally…Carlotta had realized how pathetic he truly was, and turned on him as well.

He had no friends, no confidants, and no allies.

It was better this way, he told himself.

But in his heart, he knew it wasn't the truth.

...

The stars had come out by the time he had finished his chores for the day.

He couldn't bear to return to his small shared room just yet, and he lay down under the blanket of the sky. When he was young, his father had taught him all about the stars. _If you ever feel lost, look to the sky and it will lead you home_, he had always said.

His father had been talking about navigation, but Killian always liked to imagine that he had meant more than that. He had dreamed of following the stars to find his way back home, to his parents. He knew they were gone, but even now, on the fifteenth anniversary of the day they were taken from him, it still hadn't completely sunk in.

The stars shone in the night above, the only comfort he could allow himself now. He had continued his father's teaching throughout the years, sneaking books about astronomy into his room to read by the light of stolen candles. If given the chance, he believed that he could one day reach his own kingdom once again.

He wouldn't find his home – they were dead, and even if he couldn't accept it, he still knew it – but he would be able to avenge his parents' deaths by taking his rightful claim to the throne.

The trek back to his room was long and dull. Killian knew that the next morning would come early, and it had been years since he had managed a full night's rest. The nightmares came quickly and brutally, and it was nigh impossible to fall back asleep afterwards.

The world around him was frozen. The burbling fountains had been turned off, and the courtyard was silent. The trees cast shadows that were larger than life by the light of the moon, and the world seemed almost peaceful.

He stumbled into his room and regretted it immediately. His roommate, Jefferson, must have brought a young woman back, based on the noise coming from the other side of the room. Killian slipped silently into his own bed, trying hard to ignore them.

Jefferson had been bringing women home with him for years, and the sight disturbed Killian more than he cared to admit. Killian had once had a woman he had his eye on – a beautiful young serving girl named Milah – and he had courted her for the best month of his life. Then, one day, it had abruptly ended after he had encountered her kissing Jefferson in a hall closet.

He had been heartbroken by the betrayal, and Jefferson had forgotten entirely about Milah in under a week. After seeing the pain in Milah's face afterwards, Killian had sworn that he would never treat a woman in such a way. He didn't want a woman as his plaything as Jefferson must, and he couldn't afford to let himself truly care for anyone like that again because he couldn't bear to lose her.

He was bad luck, and he always would be.

The next morning when Killian awoke, the woman was gone, and Jefferson was still fast asleep. The two men were cordial, but didn't have a close relationship – Jefferson spent his days in the Queen's basement, designing and creating hats of all shapes and sizes for the young ladies of the court, while Killian was stuck mucking the stables. Jefferson was also known by all, for the beauty of his hats and for his reputation with the ladies, and Killian was a forgotten nobody. Killian still hadn't forgiven him for his dalliance with Milah, but even so, Jefferson was still the closest thing he had to a friend.

He climbed out of bed, careful to be quiet, and dressed himself. He slipped out of the room just in time to see the sun appear on the horizon. It was beautiful, shades of pink and orange mingling to form the color of hope.

Suddenly awake, he sprinted off to the stables. He had overslept for the first time in years, and he prepared himself to face his punishment. He hadn't seen a sunrise since he had been a lad; the stablehands were expected to be up and about hours before the sun, hard at work. The sunrise he had just seen filled his mind and gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

When Killian arrived, the supervisor was already busy, and didn't notice him come in. He gave silent thanks; perhaps his luck _was_ coming back after all.

The young lad who worked with Killian hardly noticed his arrival. The lad, whom they fondly referred to as Smee, seemed happily preoccupied.

"Did you hear the news?" he whispered.

"No…" Killian responded, not in the mood for a chat with the boy.

"The king and the queen have a visitor. They say she's one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world. They say she can help the queen find the princess!"

_Magic of that nature had to come with a price_, he thought. The king and queen had sent out battalions of knights every year. An entire branch of their guard was devoted to finding the princess. None of them had found even a trace; the princess had simply disappeared into thin air. If this woman had the ability to find this princess…he shuddered to think of what the cost would be.

The lad continued babbling on, excited about the prospect of the princess coming home. Killian tuned him out, and began to perform the exact same chores he had done all day of every day.

But today, he did them with the beginnings of hope in his heart.


	3. Bargains

**A/N - I'm really sorry, this took me a lot longer than I thought it would to write, I've been busy lately. I promise that the next update will come sooner though :)Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer - I own no aspect of OUAT.**

"Did I ever tell you about the time my baby sister almost got eaten by a c_at_?"

Killian sighed, making a futile attempt to hide his smile as the lad plunged into another story. He had been chattering constantly for hours. The excitement in the castle must have done something to him; Smee always talked a lot, but it was rarely _this_ excessive.

It was hard to believe that this was the same child the castle staff had taken in last year.

He still remembered Jefferson's offhand comment that night, about a young orphaned boy who would be working in the kitchens. _He refuses to talk to anyone. His eyes look, but they are unseeing – it's eerie, Killian, I'm telling you_.

Reminded of the day he had been orphaned in the palace, Killian had run down to the kitchens immediately. He hadn't had anyone there for him then, and now he never would. He hoped that it might not be too late to bring back the boy out of his visions of the dead.

Every day, during his lunch break, Killian had gone down to visit with the lad. At first, they would simply sit in silent companionship, with Killian stealing a treat from the kitchens for the boy when he could manage it.

Gradually, Smee had grown more used to Killian's presence, and he even drew him pictures once in a while. After over two months of silence, the boy finally asked, "Why are you here?" Killian had almost shouted in relief; he had broken through the boy's emotional barrier. "Because I went through the same thing you did, and I know that no one should have to be alone. Think of me as an older brother, watching out for you," he had responded.

The boy had fallen silent again after that, but had scooted slightly closer to Killian. As the days progressed, Smee opened up to Killian and began to share the stories of his family. Killian was the only person who Smee would even talk to, and it was clear to all those around them that Smee worshipped his new big brother.

Killian had been amazed when Smee had requested to be moved to the stables in order to be closer to him. He did truly care about the boy, but he had always considered himself more of an emotional support than as a real brother. He had tried to stay away from the lad in order to protect him, but Smee reminded Killian far too much of himself to stay away for long.

Smee was his one guilty pleasure, the one person he had allowed himself to care for, the only reason that he knew his heart still worked.

The boy was almost back to normal now, though. He was still terrified of death, but he was no longer obsessed with it.

He had just begun brushing the horse's mane when the door behind them burst open. A woman stood in the doorway, long black hair streaming behind her.

She wore a gown of the deepest red, the color of blood. Killian had never seen her before in his life, but…she seemed oddly familiar. "Hello again, gentlemen," she said calmly. With a flick of her wrist, a burst of red light shot out and hit Smee in the chest. His eyes shot up into his head, and his legs collapsed underneath him.

Killian screamed, running to the boy's side. Surely somebody would hear it, and the guard would be on their way to help. Killian reached out, fingers desperately searching for a heartbeat, a blink, anything that would tell him the lad would be okay.

She looked different, but she had the same voice, the same red sparks. She had come back for him. He had thought he had escaped her forever, but he realized now that the idea had been a serious misconception – one that might have cost Smee his life.

"Now, now, dear. There'll be none of that, if you please. He'll be just fine, as long as you cooperate. I did tell you you'd come of use to me some day, didn't I? I always keep my promises."

"What do you want?" he demanded. He was furious at himself; it was his fault Smee had been placed in danger by this woman in the first place. He should never have allowed himself to care for anyone, much less a young boy who had already lost everything. Killian wasn't worthy of love. Everything he had ever allowed himself to love, or even to care for, had been stripped away from him, and it was all his fault. Looking at the boy's clammy body, he knew he could never allow it to happen again.

"A bit feisty, are we? A bit impatient, perhaps? You had better watch your tongue, young man. You ought to treat your betters with a little more respect, hmm?"

"You will never be my 'better.' You took everything from me; you are unforgivable. You are _evil_."

"I suppose I did ruin your life, didn't I? Unfortunately for you, there is still so much more that I can take from you. And I prefer wicked, darling. 'Evil' is such last century."

"I won't allow you to hurt Smee. He isn't the one you have a problem with; I am. Leave him alone, let him be free. He still has so much to live for." Killian cradled the boy's head in his lap, willing the woman to leave him alone.

"Touching. I don't want to hurt him, but if you refuse, I might have to. You see, I have a business proposition for you, my dear. When the king and queen order you to their chambers tonight, I demand that you accept their offer. However, you must also take with you this shield. It is enchanted to protect you from death, but you can still be harmed, so I'd advise caution. I must insist that you take it with you. If you can follow orders and do exactly as you are told, there may be something in it for you. A gift, from me."

"I don't want anything from you. Your last 'gift' destroyed my life, I'm quite sure I don't want another. What are you going to force me to do? It can't be good, if you're the one orchestrating it."

"I do believe you would like my gift, darling. You see, I know exactly where Liam is, and I promise that if you carry this out, I will take you to him. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Ah, your face gives it all away. And in response to your other question, I don't believe I wish to tell you. I'll leave that to the _charming_ family waiting inside. You've been impertinent, just the way I remembered. Know that you cannot escape me, and it would be such a shame if something were to happen to this sweet little thing. I will be watching you, my dear. If you are a good boy, you shall be reunited with your brother. If you fail…well, then I'll simply have to show you what you still have to lose."

She ran her finger along Killian's cheek, giving a pointed glance at the boy in his arms, and disappeared into thin air.

…

"Was that the magical sorceress who is going to help find the princess?" Smee asked, shoving Killian's arm away. "Why did you hold me down? I wanted to meet her!" His petulant tone struck Killian the wrong way. Smee was far too fond of the idea of this woman, and Killian knew he might follow her anywhere. If she told him that jumping off a cliff was what was necessary to find the lost princess…well, the boy might just do it. He shared the same dream Killian did, the hope of one day being a celebrated hero. The only difference was that Killian had more common sense in regards to the lengths he was willing to go.

It would be far too easy for the woman to hurt Smee. If Killian was going to save the boy, he had no other choice.

He had to take the witch's offer.

Her words had uncovered even more of his old wounds. Liam…his older brother had left them when he was no more than a child. He had wanted to go on a journey around the world. Killian had begged to come with, but their parents had blatantly refused. _You're far too young. It'd be dangerous. Besides, Daddy would get lonely without one of his boys at home._ In their defense, he had only just turned four, but he had wanted nothing more than to see the world by his brother's side.

Liam had left, but he hadn't ever returned. Years had passed. Killian had made a point of asking every sailor and pirate he came across if his brother had been spotted since, but the responses had been disappointing. Nobody had even heard of a Liam Jones, and Killian had almost stopped asking. Every time he was told that Liam hadn't been seen, his heart broke anew, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it.

He had tried to be the brother Liam was to him when dealing with Smee, but he knew he could never compare. Liam could do no wrong – he was fearless and daring, protective and strong, caring and kind. Killian had only ever brought pain and death to those he cared about; regardless of how much he tried, he knew that he could never be as good of a brother as Liam had been. He could never be as good of a _man_ as Liam had been, either.

After his shift was over, Killian parted ways with Smee and headed back to his room. He didn't want to be caught where he shouldn't be, especially if the witch's words were correct.

Curiosity had never been one of his flaws, but it was certainly killing him tonight. He had no idea what the king and queen might want him for, especially if the scenario was one set up by the witch. He hadn't seen Snow or Charming since the day they had realized he couldn't tell them anything about where their daughter had gone.

Knowing the witch, they would probably kill him.

A hand grabbed his shoulder in the darkness. "Killian Jones?"

It had begun. He took a moment to compose himself, and then turned around to face his fate. "Yes?"

"Their Royal Highnesses have need of you. They wish to speak to you, and I do believe it would be in your best interests to do as they say."

The guard opened a secret passage at the side of the castle which opened into a servants' tunnel. Killian vaguely remembered it from the days he had spent exploring the palace. The hallways were exactly as he remembered, and everything was exactly where it had been fifteen years before. It was as if he was walking through a dream, and the ghosts of his past were right there with him.

"Here." The guard's voice was gruff as he reached out to open the door. Killian recognized the carving; this led into the nursery. _Emma's_ nursery. He was about to enter the room where his parents had been murdered for the first time in fifteen years.

He worked hard to muster the courage to take a step forward. He was entering the place where his parents had given their lives in order to make a bargain with the woman who had murdered them. The irony was not lost on him.

"Killian Jones, come closer." The king's voice sounded exactly the same as it had the last time Killian had seen him, in this very room. He felt like a child again, terrified and full of jumbled thoughts as he looked at his parents' mangled bodies. He took another step forward, hesitantly.

The king was holding the queen to his side, and they were seated next to Emma's old crib. The room looked exactly as it had before; even though Emma was hardly a baby anymore, the royals had ordered that it be kept as clean as it had been that day. Even though it didn't make much sense after so long, they still had hope that some day their lost princess would return.

"It has been brought to our attention that you may be of use to us, Mr. Jones. We wrote you off as a child because you refused to tell us anything. However, we had both forgotten your connection to our Emma until it was brought up to us again today. Snow and I have decided to give you this chance to prove yourself worthy to us. Find our daughter. If you can bring her back to us, safe and alive, then we shall reward you with treasure beyond your comprehension."

"Please, find Emma. I beg you," the queen added.

Killian could not believe them. They were offering money in exchange for their daughter. They might be desperate, but surely they should be looking themselves instead of paying others to do it for them, especially after fifteen years had gone by without a trace. Killian thought about what they had said. If he was to find the princess, he would be reunited with his lost brother and he would receive enough money to sail them back to their kingdom.

Liam could have his rightful place as king, and Killian could rule by his side. They would be able to save their people. It wasn't a bad deal, but he was hesitant to accept. There had to be something malicious about this; the woman who had stolen Emma away all those years ago surely wouldn't be this desperate to get her back.

"I will do everything in my power to find your daughter, Your Majesty," he told the distraught queen. Smee's life, if nothing else, was worth protecting even at the risk of his own.

"Thank you." The king nodded in his direction, acknowledging what had been said. "You may pack your things and say your goodbyes. You depart at dawn."


	4. Testing

**A/N - Stay patient! Emma (and her POV) will be debuting in the next chapter. The chapters will then begin going between different characters, including some of the more minor ones :) Hope you all enjoy!**

...

There had only been one person he needed to say goodbye to.

"Can I come too? I promise I'll behave! You might need my help to fight away the evil knights and dragons and mermaids and –"

"No, lad. If there were dragons and mermaids still out there, perhaps I would require your services. As it stands, however, I believe your place is here. They'd never be able to run this place without the both of us, and you'll have to show them how it's done." Killian winked at the boy, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't want to stay! I want to come with you and find the lost princess! I want to help!"

He had expected the lad to be upset, but not this disappointed. He sighed, trying to come up with any way to make it up to him. So many people had abandoned Smee before, and he had never wanted to join their ranks.

"How about this, lad? The king and queen have offered me money in exchange for returning their daughter to them. I'm going to use it to travel across the realms and see the world, but I'm going to need a partner to help me sail my ship. Would you, perhaps, be interested in joining my crew?"

The boy's eyes glazed over. "Yes!" he cried. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Well then. We shall have countless adventures when I return. For now, I need you to stay here and help some other lads learn how to do your job. We can't bring the princess back to chaos at home when she wishes to take her horse for a ride, can we?"

The boy agreed emphatically, dreaming of the day when he would leave the place where he lived to make a home on the seas. He was appeased by Killian's offer, but he was still clearly upset about being left behind. However, the thought of the princess he thought so highly of needing _his_ services was working wonders on the lad.

Killian pulled him in for one final hug before leaving to meet the king.

…

He hadn't walked this much in his entire life. He ducked under a tree branch, easing the horse carefully through the thick undergrowth. The woods were dark even under the light of the sun, but everything he saw was brand new and exciting after being cooped up in the castle grounds for so long.

It was freeing, exhilarating even. It had been years since he had been free to roam like this, and he didn't realize how much he had missed it until now.

"Help!" It was a woman's voice, full of fear and desperation. Killian quickly tied the horse to a tree, ignoring its whinny of complaint, and ran to help her.

He came upon a clearing, the old woman sitting at the center. She was dressed in the garb of a beggar; her clothing was riddled with holes. Her foot was entrapped by a snare. She had clearly been trying to remove it to no avail; a trail of blood was visible against the dark earth, and her face was pale. He ran to her side, pressing on the clamp as gently as he could manage until the trap opened with a snap.

She began trying to explain what had happened, but her words were incoherent and mixed with countless thanks. Her voice became little more than a background noise as he got a closer look at her foot. It was clearly broken, and rivulets of blood were flowing freely down her skin.

He couldn't leave her behind, at least not in this condition. "Wait here for a moment," he said. "I'll be right back." He knew full well that it would be impossible for her to walk away, but he pretended for her sake. He walked back into the woods to retrieve his bags – and his horse. He returned as quickly as he could.

He opened his satchel, retrieving the medical kit inside. Giving silent thanks to Smee for forcing him to bring it along, he began to care for the woman's injury. He washed off most of the blood and used an old scarf as a bandage around it. Killian guided her to her feet, supporting her by the shoulders.

When she began to collapse against his arms, he realized what he should have noticed long before – there was no way she would ever be able to navigate the forest to get back home, not in the shape she was in.

He knew what he had to do.

"Take my horse," he told the woman. "She's a calm beast, and she'll carry you wherever you wish to go. I can't come with you, but I can help you out in this way. Please, take her." The horse was supposed to be for the princess to ride on once he had found her, but since he hadn't yet gotten so much as a hint of her whereabouts – and since what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her – he couldn't see the harm in giving the horse to this old woman.

It would make his own journey far more difficult, especially since he would have to leave some of his materials behind, but it seemed a small price to pay. This woman would perish here if he didn't help her somehow. The thought that she might not be able to make it back to her home without help plagued his mind as well, but he had to find Emma. He had to get back to Smee, and then he had to save his country.

"I could never do such a thing, dear. This horse is your only method of travel as well. Leave me behind; you need it far more than I do. Don't you worry a hair on your pretty little head about me, I'll be just fine."

Killian had rarely been able to do kind acts for those around him. Living in the castle was a grueling experience, with everybody in it pushing those around them down so as to gain the most power. It was a hierarchy, and he occupied the lowest rung of it. Smee had been the only person to let him approach; Smee had been the only person he had ever been able to truly help.

He knew that this was the right thing to do, and he was proud that he could help this woman.

"Take it. I insist. I will feel much better if I know that you have made it on okay; you don't need to worry about me."

"Too much, I say! This is too much! I cannot accept such a fine gift, not a palace steed such as this! I could never repay such a debt."

"It is yours. Think nothing of payment; it is a gift."

The woman seemed to rack her brains for a moment, then her eyes lit up. "I have it. I know exactly what to do. You see, my child, you possess a heart of gold. Hundreds of travelers have passed me, but only a few have stopped. Of those few, you are the first person to truly stop and help, and for that you will be rewarded. You came to me expecting nothing, and yet you helped me anyway. Not one person has even tried to help me as much as you have managed."

"It was the right thing to do, that's all." He was a bit embarrassed by all of the attention he was receiving; it really had been nothing. The woman hadn't even taken his horse yet, and already she was hailing him as a hero.

He had accepted long ago that he would never be given the chance to prove himself a good man, much less a hero. He had only caused pain and heartbreak to those around him, and it would be impossible to recover from that. But this woman…for the first time in his life, he felt as though he could be someone special as he listened to her.

If he could help this one woman, perhaps he could be enough of a hero to save his people as well. He had always wanted to go back for them, but he had also doubted that he could make things better. He had never done anything right before; he had seen no reason why leading a country would be any different. For some reason, though, this woman's praise struck him right to the bone. It made him realize that perhaps he could do it. Perhaps he _could _lead an entire country to freedom and hope.

"This is why you shall be rewarded for your actions today. You expected nothing, but you shall leave with everything. I shall help you on your journey, even if you cannot sense my presence beside you. You will need all the help you can get if you wish to save the princess from the fate that awaits her, and you have proven yourself worthy of my aid."

Killian was struck dumb. He had spoken nothing of the princess; how did this woman know where he was headed? He was entirely befuddled, and tried to glean answers to the questions that kept appearing in his head as the woman continued.

"I cannot tell you where the princess is. That is a part of this journey that you must take for yourself, for it will change your life almost as much as it will save what is left of hers. However, I can ensure that someday, you will find her. I cannot guarantee anything more than that, but it ought to be enough. How quickly you find her, well…that's up to you, my dear." The woman's face was kindly as it smiled down upon him. The twisted look of pain which had been present only a few seconds before had been replaced by a look of pure contentment and peace.

"You were heroic. You rushed into the clearing without even a thought for your own well-being or what you might face here in order to protect a screaming woman. You are caring to even the lowest of beasts; you made sure to tie your horse to a tree so as to prevent her from running away, and she is obviously well taken care of. You are also selfless, choosing to give away the most expensive thing you carry – to a beggar woman, no less! You offered it freely, expecting nothing in return. For these reasons, I grant upon you the single most powerful object I can give."

Killian was stunned. This woman had to be crazy. It was the only explanation for everything – the trap, the outfit, the rambling thank yous, and especially this speech he was being given. But…that wouldn't explain how she had known about his journey to find Emma.

"Take this cloak. When the hood is over your head, you shall be invisible to all, even those with the most powerful of magic or the cruelest of intentions. You must be extraordinarily careful with this, for it shall not block you from the world but only from sight. You may have need of its services soon, but I strongly caution you to use it wisely."

The woman handed him the cloak off her back. He tried to protest, but she simply stood and walked away. He noticed too late that her ankle had been miraculously healed during their time talking; even the traces of blood had disappeared.

"What is your name?" he called out after her. She turned around, and her face had morphed into that of a much younger, far more attractive woman.

"Tinker Bell," she responded with a coy look and a wink before stretching out her wings and flying away.

He took a moment to collect his breath and process what the woman – _fairy_ – had said. He would find Emma. She had said nothing about being able to return to his country afterwards, but he _would_ find the princess.

Killian packed up the last of the medical kit and set off once more.

As he wandered aimlessly through the forest, he was amazed at what had transpired.

He, Killian Jones, a nobody stable hand, had been tested by a fairy.

The most miraculous thing about it? He had passed.

…

The little man turned away from the mirror on the desk, a twisted smile contorting his face. The boy may not have found the princess yet, but he would soon. His plan, while it may have taken fifteen years to take effect, was finally coming to fruition, and nobody would be able to stop him.

The princess would soon be his.

The thought brought a giggle to his face as he pondered what was to come.

He sent a servant to bring his son to the throne room. The boy was well on his way to becoming a man, and a fine ruler as well. All of the time he had spent developing his plan and all of the sacrifices he had made along the way to ensure its success were for the boy. The little man may not have been a good man, but he would never let his son down.

"You called for me, Father?" The boy may have been pretending to not know a thing about it, but the man knew that he was anything but naïve about the circumstances. His son was clearly following in his own footsteps, and he couldn't have been prouder. He had been trying to teach his son the art of bargaining (and getting secrets out of those around him) since he had been a child.

"Good. At least something is sticking in that mind of yours. Yes, I did call for you, and I believe you know why. We have waited so long for this, but soon it shall all be over. It is time for you to prepare both yourself and the castle. After all, this young lady most certainly deserves an…_elaborate_ welcome, one fit for a princess."

"Yes, sir. I will see to it that the preparations have been made. It will be done as you command."

His son left the throne room as quickly as he had entered. Rumpelstiltskin turned once more to the mirror on the table, watching the young prince unknowingly grow closer to the castle – and to the princess he searched for.

He had seen this fate in the stars years previous, but it was all finally coming to be.


	5. The Wall

EMMA

Emma snuck one last furtive look through the dark forest. It was just as empty as it had been the last time she looked a few minutes ago, but she knew that being caught would be disastrous to say the least. The only reason she had made it through the last time unpunished was because it had been Graham who had found her, and she couldn't afford to risk it again.

Pulling the cap down further over her head to hide her trademark blonde hair, she stretched her hand out gently to touch the space in between the two willow trees.

A force shot through her, propelling her backwards and shoving her against a tree._That's going to bruise_, she thought with a sigh. She should have known better than to get her hopes up, but she had truly believed that it would work this time. She had been going under the guards' noses to the black markets on the outskirts of the town, searching for a way past the barrier.

It had been up since before she could remember. It surrounded the entirety of the town – she knew, she'd checked – and it had been eight years since anyone had ever passed through the magic wall.

Since her _mother_ had passed through the wall.

_"__Emma, it will only take three days' time. There is no reason for you to come with me; you need to stay here, where it's safe." _

_"__But Mama, I want to go and see the world! I'm sick of the guards, and I'm sick of the town. I want to go with you!" _

_Her mother looked at her with a stern face. "Emma, you are not going, and that's final. Now, you will go up to your room right now, and I shall return for you in three days as promised. I love you, little bird, but you're not ready to fly away from me quite yet." _

_Emma sat on the balcony outside of her room in the tower, watching her mother be swallowed by the magic and disappear into the world beyond. She could remember fragments of a life spent outside of this town, but not enough to piece together her own history._

_She had asked her mother about it once, but she had been angrily refused and sent away immediately._

_Emma waited, watching out her window, for three days. She had only left her perch for mealtimes, and even then, she strained her neck to stare at the door of the Great Hall, willing it to open._

_As the third day dawned, the sun found Emma awake and prepared for her mother. In her excitement, she had accidentally sliced her finger, tripped over more rugs than she cared to admit, and the buttons of her dress had been mismatched. She looked altogether disheveled, but that didn't matter._

_Today would be the day her mother would return._

_She had never been parted from her mother for longer than a few hours before, and she missed her terribly. \_

_But her mother didn't come home that day. Emma fell asleep sometime during the wee hours of the morning, her heart aching but her body unable to stay awake any longer. Her mother didn't come the day after, either, or the day after that._

_For two months, Emma refused to leave her window. She requested that her meals be catered upstairs to her, and she refused to change her clothes.__She sat there for sixty-four days before finally losing count of the days. It took her even longer to realize that her mother wasn't coming back. Perhaps she had never even intended to come back. The thought stung the young girl, but she eventually convinced herself that it was true._

The only thing that had saved her from her despair and heartbreak had been meeting a young village boy. He had approached her one day while she was walking in the woods, tossing rocks at the magical wall. She smiled as she thought back to that day.

She had been standing in the woods, a lost little girl, when this boy approached her. She had seen him before, but her mother had never let her talk to the other children her age. Emma had always been forced into an isolated life, separated from all of those around her.

"My name is Graham," the child had proudly announced to her. "I'm Emma," she had responded shyly. She had always had difficulty communicating with the people around her, but this Graham seemed more than willing to talk to her. Nobody ever had; she had never had a friend before.

Since that day, Graham had been her saving grace. He hadn't been able to combat the abandonment she had felt over the disappearance of her mother, but he had given her a reason to fight. He had also helped her search for a way beyond the border of the town even after it had been forbidden.

Since her mother's disappearance, one of the guards had taken leadership of their little town out of Emma's hands. His name was Walsh, and she despised him. He kept her locked up in the tower, the place that had once been her refuge, and forced her to watch as he oppressed the people around her.

Her mother had never led the town in this way; she had simply been its guiding light, a respected woman in the community. Now, watching Walsh try to suck the very life out of the townspeople, it made Emma sick to even think about what he was doing. She felt constricted by him, but there was nothing that she could do to stop him.

She did, however, realize that there was one person who might be able to. Her mother had possessed magic, and she had had the respect of all the townspeople. If Emma could just find her, she was sure her mother would help get rid of Walsh. Once he was gone, Emma could freely see the world for herself without feeling guilty about abandoning the people she had grown up with.

Graham had been helping her escape from the tower for years now; he had joined Hans's personal guard in order to keep an eye on her. Neither of them understood why Walsh was so insistent that Emma be watched at all times, but Graham was there to watch out for her anyway. He had drawn her out of the depths of her depression after her mother had left, and he was still there for her now.

They still hadn't found a way to cross the border.

She thought she had found one when the peddler had offered to sell her a magical stone "for the right price." She had given away the last token she had of her mother's in exchange for it, thinking that it was worth the sacrifice if only it would work. He had claimed it could get her past the barrier; she should have been smarter. She should have thought to check if it worked first; then again, if it had, she wouldn't have been able to pay the man.

Graham had warned her against this. He had told her not to get her hopes up, that it was unlikely she would ever find a way out. He had supported her throughout her journey, but he had also been the voice of reason in her ear.

She just couldn't help it. Every time she was promised something might work to help her get past the wall, she felt a compulsion to try it. She had tried everything she could think of, and nothing had worked. Yet she still refused to give up. It might take a lot of time and even more effort, but she would find her mother.

She sank to the ground, the sorrow of missing her mother mingling with the pain of lost hope. Emma lay down flat across the grass, her arms spread at her sides, looking up into the green tree branches.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the dark shadow shoot out from the wall at her feet.

….

KILLIAN

Killian had been traveling for what felt like months, even though he knew it had only been a couple of weeks. He had been traveling aimlessly throughout the towns, bribing tavern owners and townspeople to no avail. It had only led him to more dead ends.

He wondered, not for the first time, why the witch had been so insistent that he be the one to search for the lost princess. He didn't possess the ability to read minds, and his sense of direction was nowhere near good enough to follow a fifteen year old trail.

For years, he had felt that the knights had simply not been looking hard enough. He hadn't thought it possible for a girl to simply disappear out of nowhere, especially not the princess of the land. After his little adventure, though, he realized that that was exactly what had happened. Beyond the yearly rituals the king and queen held to celebrate their lost child's birthday in the hopes that this would be the year she returned, the girl may as well have not existed.

He had specifically sought out the elders in every town he had passed as well, but none of them could even remember the day Emma had gone missing. They only knew that she had disappeared one day; they couldn't tell him anything more. Every time, he had been sent away with an apology instead of the information he craved.

Killian was no closer to finding Emma than he had been the minute the king and queen had sent him away.

He wandered through yet another port city, finding his way through to the tavern. The only thing keeping him going anymore was the thought of Smee. He couldn't disappoint the lad, not after seeing his excitement at the thought of the princess returning. Smee believed in Killian; in the lad's eyes, he could do no wrong. It would take far more than a disappearing princess for Killian to risk losing that trust. He didn't deserve it, but he craved it. He had lost almost all of the hope he had in himself, but the thought that anyone (even someone as young as Smee) believed in his abilities helped give him just enough faith to carry on.

He wandered down dark alleyways, twisting and turning through the mazes that lined the town before reaching its edge. It opened out onto a cliff, and he wandered directly up to the edge. The water beyond was endless, illuminated by the soft light of the moon. He had used to love sailing through it, with the waves crashing up against the sides of the boat. Sometimes, the harbormaster had even let him steer the ships for a few minutes at a time; it had been one of his and Liam's favorite games.

Then Liam had been swallowed up by the ocean and hadn't returned, and all of the joy Killian had found in sailing had disappeared alongside his brother.

Looking out at the horizon and the white capped waves, Killian realized just how much he had missed it. He welcomed it like an old friend, one whose death he had refused to mourn.

"Well, isn't this a lovely surprise?"

Killian almost stumbled over the edge of the cliff in shock.

Milah.

He hadn't seen her since the day she had left, after Jefferson had broken her heart – and after she had broken his in turn. But here she was, once again, alive and well.

Killian formed the sound of her name, but he couldn't force the word out. Her disappearance, her abandonment, her _betrayal_, still hurt as much as it had the day she left. He had gotten over his feelings for her, true, but the pain still lay beneath.

She looked angry at him, but he couldn't comprehend why. Luckily for him (or perhaps not so luckily) she felt the need to point out his faults one more time.

"Why did you have to do it, Killian? Why did you have to take away my chance at happiness with Jefferson? He told me that he loved me, Killian. And then you came along, and I don't know what you said, what you told him, but I know that it was you. You were jealous of him for stealing me away from you, and that jealousy corrupted you, and so you took him from me. You pushed him into her arms; you enjoyed it. I have waited years for this moment, Killian Jones."

She walked forward, prompting him to take yet another step backwards. He glanced backwards; the edge was approaching, but he had nowhere else to go. Milah's heated gaze held him in place, even if he couldn't find it in his heart to respond to her scathing words. He had been about to deny it, deny that he had done anything to take Jefferson away from her – but his jealousy, that was something true. He couldn't deny that.

If believing that he was a villain was what Milah needed, he would happily stand here as her punching bag. Even if he was growing a bit worried about his proximity to the edge, he didn't believe that she would allow him to fall. That is, until she stretched out one hand, pressing against his chest. He couldn't take another step back, but he couldn't push her away. He was paralyzed by her presence; he screamed at his muscles to move, but they refused his command.

"I will tell you one thing. You did your work most thoroughly, Killian. Not only did you destroy my happiness, but you annihilated any chance I had at a happy ending. I was kicked out of the palace, abandoned by the man I loved…" Her words struck Killian's heart. He had fancied himself in love with her, but even then, she had been in love with the only man he considered a friend. "…and left with his child in my belly. Do you have any idea what it's like? The looks I've received? The comments in towns once their inhabitants noticed my baby, and her lack of a father? You betrayed me; you are a monster, Killian Jones, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. However, there has been a single thought running through my head for the past few years, Killian. Every day, this thought is what keeps me going. It is the only reason I'm still here, the only reason I have bothered to try with my daughter. Want to wager a guess as to what it might be?"

Killian froze. Milah's eyes had glazed over, the fury in her eyes shooting daggers into him.

"Still too much of a coward to stand up for yourself then, Killian? Still too ashamed to try and defend yourself? Well, you should be. The only image that kept me going, that kept my alive, was that of shoving a dagger into your traitorous heart. I dreamed of hunting you down and ripping you apart in the same way that your actions unraveled me. Now that the time has come, I happen to find myself unarmed. But I do believe this cliff will work just as well, don't you, _love_?"

She emphasized his last word, and it was the inflection in her voice which prompted his motion. She really meant it. She was really going to do it. This woman blamed him for something he didn't do, just as Charming had blamed him for Emma's disappearance all those years ago. He hadn't believed that she would really do it, that she _could_ really do it. Looking at her posture now, at the utter hatred prevalent in her gaze, he realized his mistake. He forced his muscles into action in a forward lunge, pushing her back in a last-ditch attempt to escape. He didn't want to hurt her, but he liked to think that he had his priorities in order.

It was too late. She used his momentum to shove him back over the cliff.

As he fell into the blackness, he heard her final words whispering to him.

"Good riddance, Killian Jones."

He had failed. He would never return home, he would never see Smee again, and he would never be heralded as a hero after returning Emma to the king and queen.

He would never be able to free his people.

But…he didn't hit the rocks. A whooshing noise went up around him as he passed through something soft, and it flipped him forward like a trampoline, propelling him sideways instead of down. A shimmering appeared above him, and he hit the ground with a thump.

If this was death, it didn't seem so bad after all.

"Oooph," whooshed a voice from underneath him. He was still in shock at what had happened, and he was preoccupied with trying to get a bearing on his surroundings. He failed to notice what – or rather, who – it had been that had cushioned his fall until the wriggling began. Small fingers began poking his sides, and he quickly rolled away.

Milah. She had tried to kill him for something he hadn't done. She had let revenge consume her being, and she had tried to kill _him_. It seemed like she had failed, but who was he to say? These woods were certainly not the town he had come from, and he couldn't hear the ocean's whisper. Maybe this was what death was like.

But then why would this other person have been crushed by him? Certainly Death's sense of humor couldn't be quite so pronounced.

Fear crept in; whoever had been there had broken his own fall with their body. His life seemed to have been spared, but in the process he might have seriously injured another. He could only ever hurt those he was around; he was like poison. Milah had been right; he was good for nothing. He looked down at the body lying prone before him. It was a young lad, and a sense of shame pervaded his every thought. The boy looked small and broken lying on the cold ground, and Killian knew he wasn't any small weight.

Bright green eyes looked up at him from the ground as the boy reached up to pull his cap further down on his head. He rubbed his chest in the process, clearly in pain. "What the hell," the lad groaned. "Sorry," Killian said, his cheeks flushing as he saw the bruises lining the boy's arms, ashamed at what he had done. He stretched a hand down to the boy in order to help him up, but the lad chose instead to brace himself against the tree and force himself up.

"I'm Killian Jones, by the way. You wouldn't by any chance have run across a young lady by the name of Emma, would you? I'm about at my wits end."

The lad rolled his eyes at him. The nerve of this boy…"You really think I owe you anything, Jones? As I recall, you crushed me only a few seconds ago. What makes you think I even want to talk to you?" Oh. Well, it had been worth a shot. "I do know of quite a few girls named Emma, in fact. However, information comes with a price, one you have yet to even offer." The boy was snapping, curt words flying from his lips, but Killian was too focused on what the boy was saying to notice the attitude with which they were appearing.

Perhaps there was a chance. Then again, he had never realized just how many girls were named Emma out there. No wonder it had taken the palace guards so long to find the lost princess; even if there had been a chance of finding her, it was certainly gone by now. Nobody would recognize her for who she was, and it had been years since he had seen her.

"I have jewels," he offered casually. He didn't, but there was no reason this lad needed to know that. He couldn't have been more than fourteen with a voice that high, and Killian could find some other way to repay the boy later, after he'd gotten whatever information there was. Even though he felt bad for using the boy, his prior tactics hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"No you don't," the boy said with a slight smirk. "Either way, you can't really believe me that stupid. I want something out of you, and I think that common courtesy would dictate that you do me a favor. It's the least you could do, really, especially since you almost killed me."

"Uh…what would you want?" he stuttered, searching for any way out of this conversation. He shouldn't have asked for information; he should've just walked away. God only knew what this lad might ask for; he wasn't exactly in the mood to battle off any monsters at the moment.

The lad let out a dark chuckle at his words. "I want a lot of things, buddy, but I'm not getting any of them. If you can tell me how you got over that wall there, I'll consider your favor paid in full. If, however, you were to get me past that wall, well…I might just consider helping you find your Emma."

Killian frowned in contemplation. "What do you mean, a wall? I was pushed off a cliff and fell, and was somehow transported here. There wasn't any wall to contend with."

"Put your hand there," the lad instructed. Killian did, and felt his hand pass through something warm and tingly. The boy's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "What are you doing? What sorcery do you have?" he demanded. The lad reached forward hesitantly, and the wall lit up as it propelled him backwards once again.

He swore quietly, and the heartbroken look in his eyes just about broke Killian's heart.


End file.
